


Bananas, Glass Pumpkins, and One Door Slam Too Many

by LandlessBud, PenzyRome



Series: Quote List Fics [1]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: F/F, Halloween!, M/M, first collab and it went SO WELL, the quote list
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 06:40:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16424348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LandlessBud/pseuds/LandlessBud, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenzyRome/pseuds/PenzyRome
Summary: Davey's preparing for Les's visit to the house he shares with Sarah, Katherine, Crutchie, and Jack. None of them are much help with his extreme Halloween decorating.





	Bananas, Glass Pumpkins, and One Door Slam Too Many

“You know, if I didn’t have a banana in my hand, I would help you,” Sarah remarked, leaning against the fridge.

“You picked that up three seconds ago,” Crutchie said, looking up from his most recent adventure into the world of tabloids.

Sarah peeled the banana, shoving half of it in her mouth. “So?”

“So, it’s a fake excuse,” Davey grumbled, shoving another cardboard box of Halloween decorations onto the kitchen counter.

“Crutchie’s not doing anything!” she said through about a third of the remaining banana. Crutchie looked up like he’d been shot.

“Excuse you. I’ve contributed more to this family than you have so far.” To punctuate, he flipped the magazine around so Sarah could see. “Would Davey know Ariana broke up with Pete Davidson if I wasn’t here?” She was silent, so he answered for her. “No, because he’s dumb.”

“What a shame,” she said, throwing her banana peel in the vague direction of the trash can, missing it by about five feet. 

“Could you guys chill out and help?” Davey had reached a point of near-hyperventilation in his panic.

Crutchie chose that moment to promptly stand. “I have a meeting, actually. With… my professor. About homework.”

Sarah snorted. “Crutchie, it’s 11 PM. No professor in their right mind would have office hours right now.”

“This one does.”

“What class?”

“.....Fashion. Fashion in….  _ Star Wars _ .”

Davey paused halfway through cutting open a box. “There’s a Fashion in  _ Star Wars  _ class?”

Sarah dragged her hand down her face. “You are a believable argument against evolution.”

“Guys. Please. I have weak arms. These boxes are heavy,” Davey interrupted.

“They wouldn’t be weak if you ever used them,” Sarah said, still not moving from her spot against the fridge.

Davey sighed, resorting to pushing the box across the floor with his feet. “I use my hands.”

Crutchie cleared his throat. “I’d leave. Because my.. Meeting. But there’s about five jokes I wanna make about that, so say something else and I’ll see what still works.”

“I—well. I am. Fuck.”

“God, that doesn’t do anything. Tell you what, I’ll write them down on my phone and give them to you when you finish decorating.”

“When  _ we  _ finish decorating.”

Crutchie grabbed his coat. “When you,  _ plural _ , finish decorating. I’m out. Sorry dudes.”

Davey watched him go and immediately turned his best pleading look on Sarah. “Please? He’s your brother, too.”

“You know perfectly well that Les doesn’t give a single shit about how clean our house is, Dave.” She picked up the banana peel and failed once more at throwing it in. “Besides, Jack is going to fuck up all the decorations anyway with his ‘I’m-An-Art-Major’ shit.”

“I’d like to keep my reputation of Cool Older Brother, Saz,” Davey shot back.

Sarah lost it. “What reputation? The one you cultivated with your  _ Lord of the Rings  _ bar mitzvah?”

“Need I remind you of your  _ Wizard of Oz _ bat mitzvah?”

“Point made.” She dropped the peel into the garbage can and patted him on the back. “Good luck. I’m going to bed.”

He made a desperate grab at her cardigan. “Saaaaraahhhhh…”

“You’re destined to die alone!” she said over her shoulder as she jogged up the stairs, far away from the twenty boxes he had safely stockpiled throughout his childhood. “Unless you finally figure out your bullshit with Jack!”

He hated that she was right, according to his parents and all of their friends and that one fortune cookie about sharing your true feelings. “Fuck you! I can decorate alone! I don’t need you!”

He stared into the depths of the first box. “Why do I have a Q-tip skeleton?”

After thirty seconds of solid commitment to trying to remember, he did: Les had made it in third grade and gotten upset that everyone else celebrated Halloween except for him. Les, who was coming in less than twenty-four hours, who was the reason Davey had unleashed hell upon his home.

God, all he wanted was a degree and two cats and a husband that was tall and had dark hair and spoke Spanish and—now was not the time to think about his monumental crush on Jack.

But he had twenty-two hours to unleash literal hell upon his home, and every minute counted. Hell, he had even spent thirty minutes sending out Please Cancel Class Vibes until he got the email that his professor was going to a wedding. So really, he’d be fine, with the help of Katherine and her unlimited Starbucks fund and also Xanax. So much Xanax.

The front door suddenly slammed open. Davey let out an ungodly shriek and dropped the plastic cauldron in his hands. 

“Dave, no offense, but, uh, what the fuck.”

“I could say the same to you.”

Yoda, but with Katherine’s voice and better clothes, looked down at her attire. “This is what style looks like, back off.”

“Okay, yeah, sure, please help me decorate.” Yoda, now fully recognizable as Katherine, pulled off her mask. She shot him one skeptical look and he clasped his hands together, knowing full well that he looked pathetic. “Pretty please with powdered sugar on top I’ll owe you for the rest of my life I won’t even complain when you decide that it’s alright to bench press my textbooks--”

“I never bench press your textbooks.”

“But when you do, I won’t complain!”

“Let me bench press you and we have a deal.”

Davey sighed. “Fine. As long as you don’t throw me or drop me.”

Katherine spit on her hand.

Davey eyed it with disgust. “We’re still doing that?”

“You signed up for this when you moved in.”

“Shit, was that really in the contract? I thought you guys were kidding,” Davey whined.

Katherine replaced her Yoda mask. “Contract you must read twice, young Padawan.”

“That’s a terrible Yoda voice.”

“Shut up. Are we decorating or not?”

Davey panicked. “Shit! Right! We have 22 hours before Les gets here, and I have twenty boxes. So a box an hour, and we have two hours left for  _ Hocus Pocus!” _

“Dave. These boxes aren’t that big and our house is enormous. This’ll take like four hours tops.”

“But I worry there might be hidden things we have to clean. Like, I want to put,” he hefted the cauldron onto his shoulder, “this cauldron on top of the cabinet, but I’m worried there’s going to be dust.”

“Or weed,” Katherine added, and Davey blinked.

“Weed?”

“Did I say weed? There’s no weed. There’ll be kids here. No one here smokes. I’ve never seen it in my life.” Katherine quickly snatched a hidden ziploc bag off the top of the cabinet, replacing it with the cauldron and scurrying up the stairs to her room. 

Davey felt a little part of his brain die. “Are you still helping me decorate?” he yelled up the stairs.

“Yeah, just give me a hot sec,” Katherine yelled down. She soon reappeared, heading back down to the kitchen. “Okay, we’re all good. What’s first on your Halloween wet dream?”

“I really wish you wouldn’t put it like that,” he said, ripping tape off the second box.

There was a moment of comfortable silence, and then he broke. “Okay, but I have always wanted a smoke machine in front of the door that’s triggered whenever people step on the doormat…”

Katherine practically cackled. “I fucking love you. You’re so pathetic.”

“You’re mean.”

“I’m allowed to be. It’s in the contract.”

“Shit! I really should’ve actually read that.”

“It’s too late, buckaroni. You’re trapped.”

“You’re absolutely right. Now let’s get back to decorating.”

An hour later, the campus bell tower tolled, and Davey screamed as Katherine dropped a glass pumpkin. Nearly immediately after, their front door slammed open as Crutchie rushed inside and up the stairs before Davey could say a word.

They were both silent, staying incredibly still to avoid stepping on the shattered glass.

Then, carefully turning towards Katherine, Davey said, “Do you think his meeting went well?”

Katherine sighed, tiptoeing to the pantry to grab the one broom in the house. “You know, I think he wrote  _ gullible  _ on the roof.”

“Really?”

She covered her mouth, trying desperately to stop her giggles, and then she heard him sigh. “I  _ trusted  _ you.”

“That’s in the contract, Dave.”

“What’s in the contract?”

She shrugged, not saying a word.

“Katherine?” His voice broke on the last syllable. “Kath? Kath, what the fuck does that mean?”

Katherine grinned in silence, then continued pulling out decorations from the nineteenth box. 

Davey dumped the dustpan full of glass into the garbage and sighed. “Okay, almost done, except this box and that one ghoul thing I want to put in Sarah’s room to make her freak out when she wakes up.”

“That’s the most intelligent statement I’ve heard from you all day. Give it here, I’ll put it up.”

Jack, of course, had chosen this opportune moment to slam open the front door and yell “HONEYS, I’M HOME!”

“JACK, YOU’LL WAKE UP SARAH!” Katherine yelled back.

“WHY DO YOU THINK I’M SHOUTING?” Jack replied.

David wished there was a camera just for something to stare at to remind himself that he didn’t particularly enjoy their Disaster House.

(Well, he did. And he loved them all to bits. But put a really heavy emphasis on disaster.)

Jack sauntered into the kitchen. “Davey, my love, how have you been passing all these hours while I’ve been at war?”

Davey nearly melted into the floor. “Uh—Um. Good. Yeah. I think. I think I need to get some sleep,” he stuttered, climbing the stairs red-faced.

Katherine watched him flee and turned to Jack. “Your fault. He was fine before you came. I’m gonna go prank Sarah, don’t have a stroke as soon as he smiles at you. G’night!”


End file.
